Playing The Violin! Poem by Sandra Regan

Playing The Violin!



Are you ready? Hold it with your chin.
This is a game that you will win.
It won't be easy, now stand up straight.
Come on now, I know your fate.
Hold out your arm and grip the scroll.
Let's take a break from rock and roll.
Fingers hover, get ready to reach.
This instrument is no stroll on the beach.
Reach far, crank it! Just like mine.
Stand up straight, now let's begin.
Easy with the right, gentle on the strings.
It won't break, see how it sings?
I'll guide you this time, hand over hand.
Why so red? You're sweating like band.
Relax to make music. Fine! Rest your arm.
Don't lift your bow, it will work like a charm.
Me play a song? Ok, just one.
Your turn now, I told you this was fun.
BTW, you might be sore tomorrow.
An ice pack you may need to borrow.
But tonight, you did it! Far from begin.
'I want to die! ' You're playing the violin!

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
A poem about a violin lesson from a classic musician to a rock and roller. The 'I want to die' reference is a lyric from an Evanescence song that we were learning. Playing the violin is difficult, but fun...
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Charles Monroe 18 November 2013

Inspired by the Poet Sandra Regan

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Charles Monroe 18 November 2013

“Plug Me In, and Turn Me Up” In inner city schools I've sat And wondered-off through senseless chat The music class I could not join For reasons I will not discuss Just one instrument at home Learned to play the Microphone. Though it is strenuous to play She came so natural to me Some, they call her “em eye see” But the Mic was meant for me. Couldn’t tell you how it sounds You must feel it for your selves Accompanied by Bass and Kick Drum Rim-shot with a quiet-snare, A simple, Light-Cymbal, bell-air And There I go- -And then the keys, The tempo slowed Like 83’s, Kind of hip-hop, kind of blues The revolutions are at ease Then guitars and mpc’s. “Check-One-Two, -Check-One-Two, Check! ” Violin strings that Sweetly wept And resonated retrospect To memories forgotten. A background sound of Music tears, A cry of Music To my ears. While I slept and Dreamt-up fears- For years, A product- Of my peers. But now, I can produce For years. An instrument of wind or brass Was quite unlikely for my... class But once the Mic was in my grasp Music in my very gasp How must we conduct the Mass? Are the questions that we ask now Or acquire me a wire One note flyer than the choir We require to inspire Plug me in on any channel See me lighting-up the panel Vocals over grand piano Broken tones Chords diminished Poured all over broken spirits Broken glass and broken English Broken promise, Broken bones. Broken bottles of merlot Broken heart or broken soul Product from a Broken home But right now I’m in the zone Plug me in, and turn me up- I can play the Microphone. P.X 11-18-13

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